


And That's How You Get Ants

by dommific, ken_ichijouji (dommific)



Category: Archer - Fandom, Star Trek 2009
Genre: F/M, M/M, Multi, dead hooker jokes, dirty humor, spy comedy, star trek fusion with archer
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-02-26
Updated: 2012-11-28
Packaged: 2017-11-03 12:16:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 17,228
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/381250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dommific/pseuds/dommific, https://archiveofourown.org/users/dommific/pseuds/ken_ichijouji
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A normal day in the life for top STRFLT secret agent James Kirk, codenamed Duchess. Now if only he could get his ex-lover away from his dull new boyfriend...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Right, so I’ve been saying I would do this for a while now. Like…since this show came out a while. So um…2010? Ish? Yeah.

Title: And That's How You Get Ants  
Series: Star Trek 2009 fused with the F/X animated sitcom [Archer](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Archer_%28TV_series%29)  
Pairings: Spock/Bones (work with me here), Jim/Bones (past relationship and current UST), one-sided Sulu/Bones (holy shit Bones is getting around in this universe), some blink and you'll miss it Chekov/Jim and Carol Marcus/Spock  
Rating: R for sexual references, swearing, and dead hooker jokes  
Beta/General advice: [](http://maypirate.livejournal.com/profile)[**maypirate**](http://maypirate.livejournal.com/)  
Summary: A normal day in the life for top STRFLT secret agent James Kirk, codenamed Duchess. Now if only he could get his ex-lover away from his dull new boyfriend...  
Disclaimer: I do not own the Star Trek characters or anything from Archer. Nothing, nada, zilch, zip, zero.  
Notes: Right, so I’ve been saying I would do this for a while now. Like…since this show came out a while. So um…2010? Ish? Yeah.

For those of you not in the know, _Archer_ is a spy comedy on F/X. It’s about a secret agent named Sterling Archer, who works for the agency ISIS under his mother, Malory Archer. Archer (as Sterling is referred to by most of the other characters) works with a variety of interesting people in the office. In addition to international intrigue, he must deal with things like balancing his expense account and working closely with his ex, Lana Kane, and maybe there’s still some sexual tension there.

Also the humor is blue as SHIT. Seriously, if this seems way more offensive/dirty than the things I usually write, well…it’s the show. Some of the jokes are going to be taken directly from it. Also for the sake of an explanation, Pam is constantly made fun of for being ugly and fat. Hence all the jokes made at Hikaru’s expense. If it seems mean, well…it kind of is.

Like this is one of those shows that is totally not politically correct. At all. Beyond not politically correct. It wouldn’t be in the spirit of the show to do otherwise. Some of the jokes are lifted from the show proper because it’s one of those things where there was simply no way I could come up with something funnier. (Like the O. Henry/Alanis Morissette joke.)

So obviously, Jim is Sterling Archer and Winona is Malory. Bones, not Nyota, is Lana. (Nyota gets to be Gillette so she can be the only sane person that works at the agency. Trust me, it’s better this way.)

Anyways, I hope you find it funny. If you guys like it, I’ll do more of these.

 

The party was an elegant affair featuring people dressed to the nines, free-flowing champagne, and classical music played by a live string quartet.

Winona Kirk stood sipping a flute of said champagne in her royal blue floor length gown. Her white gloves were elbow length, and she wore a tasteful pearl and diamond choker at her throat.

To her left stood one of her top field agents, Leonard McCoy. He was clad in a white dinner jacket with black pants, a crisp white shirt, and black bow tie. Leonard, too, sipped champagne.

“I don’t understand why you needed all of us for this,” he said quietly. “Kirk could have handled this just fine without Spock and I being dragged into it. I doubt these so-called terrorists will even show; it’s too high profile. It doesn’t fit their MO.”

Winona shrugged. “There is something to be said for safety in numbers. Besides, I had Nyota run logistics on the threats. I assure you, Leonard, they’re quite real.”

Leonard sighed. “Fine, have me come as back up. I still don’t understand why Spock needed to be here.”

Winona gave him a pointed look. “He’s your lover, and you don’t want him around?”

“Not when I’m working,” Leonard said. “He’s fantastic, don’t get me wrong, but in terms of being out in the field…well…he makes a great accountant.”

Winona snorted indelicately. Their host for the evening, a Duke Gussy von Fusterberg, made his way over to them. The Duke was a round man in a red jacket adorned with medals and a monocle.

“Ahhh, Winona, there you are,” he said in a bold voice. “You look as ravishing as the last time we met.”

“Oh, Gussy,” Winona answered in a coy voice. “You’re nothing but a flatterer.”

“It’s not flattery if it’s true,” Gussy replied as he looked at Leonard from head to toe. “Who is this? Not your date, I hope…”

“Leonard McCoy, sir,” Leonard said as he extended his hand. “I’m an associate of Miz Kirk’s.”

Gussy looked down at his hand before looking back up into his face. “We do not shake hands when we meet as friends, Leonard, we ignore propriety and hug.” And Gussy did in fact wrap Leonard into a bear hug.

“Oh…um…” Leonard managed to get out. “I uh…thanks…”

Gussy slowly slid one of his hands down from Leonard’s back to his ass. He gave it a squeeze.

“Okay!” Leonard yelped as he pushed the duke off him. “Thank you for the…warm…greeting, but…”

“I was not trying to offend that man of yours,” Gussy answered. Just then, a tall, thin man wearing a pair of horn-rimmed glasses arrived and put his arm around Leonard’s waist.

“I am not offended, it would be illogical,” he answered.

Gussy grinned at him. “Glad to hear it, chap, although…I’m sorry, I don’t believe we’ve met?”

The man inclined his head in a slight nod. “Spock S’chn T’gai. I am the STRFLT Agency’s comptroller.”

Leonard cleared his throat. “He’s also my…”

“Boyfriend,” Spock said as Leonard said “Person I am…seeing.”

Gussy blinked. “No, but the man you’re seeing…he was a rakish chap, ruggedly handsome, and has a way with a firearm…”

There was an awkward silence.

“Oh you…you mean my ex,” Leonard said with a sigh.

“Kirk,” Spock added, and the tone of his voice was distinctly uncomfortable.

“Yes, that is exactly whom I was thinking of,” Gussy announced. “If memory serves, he’s not only gorgeous but a…”

“A fucking secret agent, fuck yeah!” came a shout from across the room.

Winona closed her eyes and sighed heavily.

Spock looked towards the commotion with a blank expression.

And Leonard rolled his eyes heavenward.

There stood the former object of Leonard’s affections and current bane of his existence: James Tiberius Kirk, codename Duchess.

Like Leonard, Jim was in a white dinner jacket. Unlike Leonard, he was three sheets to the wind and also rip-roaring drunk. He stood talking to a red haired woman in a purple dress that had to be about five inches taller than he was.

“That’s what I am, I’m totally a secret agent,” Jim continued. “I shouldn’t be telling you this, so _shhhhhhhhhhhhh_ …but yeah, I’m a secret agent. Jim Kirk of STRFLT!”

The woman looked bored by the whole conversation.

Jim began to finger one of the straps of the woman’s gown. “You…there’s something about you. I don’t normally hit on women taller than me, but you are, like…super appealing.”

The woman, whose voice was oddly high pitched with the hint of an Irish accent, appeared to be less than impressed. “And I find your sloppy drunkenness incredibly _un_ appealing.”

“Oh, I’m wasted,” Jim agreed. “Otherwise, I wouldn’t be talking to you.”

The woman huffed. “If you’ll excuse me…” She began to storm away.

“Oh whatever, baby, don’t be so moody,” Jim said as he grabbed her dress. Unfortunately, he grabbed it too hard because it tore in his hands.

It tore and revealed that “she” was a he, and he had about forty pounds of C4 strapped to his torso.

“Holy shit,” Leonard said as he immediately went for the gun strapped to his back.

“Jim, watch out!” Winona cried.

“The free Irish will never bow before the English crown,” said the cross-dressing terrorist as he pulled out a detonator. “We’re sending a message tonight…”

A waiter happened to come up next to Jim at this particular moment. Thinking quickly, Jim grabbed the tray out of his hands and hurled it at the terrorist. It struck him dead center in the face, and he immediately passed out.

The crowd, who had gone silent at the sight of the terrorist, immediately burst into applause.

“Did you see that shit?” Jim crowed. “That was totally ninja!”

Leonard stared at Jim with a combination of awe and attraction on his face. Spock cleared his throat.

Then he cleared it a second time.

“Leonard?”

“What, I’m not…I mean,” Leonard lowered his gun. “What’s up, buddy?”

Spock sighed.

Winona narrowed her eyes as she looked at the “happy” couple, before turning her attention back to her son, who was being congratulated by Gussy.

“Excellent show, Kirk,” Gussy shouted as he slapped Jim hard on the back. “You saved me!”

“Well, yeah. I mean, nothing’s gonna happen to you on my watch,” Jim said as he pounded Gussy on the shoulder. “I love you, Santa Claus!”

Gussy stopped laughing. “I’m sorry?”

Jim suddenly buried his face in his hands. “No, I’m sorry, I just…I do. I really do.”

He then started to cry, leaving Gussy little choice but to comfort him.

\-----

The following day, Winona Kirk sat in her crisp gray Chanel suit sipping a Bloody Mary behind her desk. Her office was the largest one at STRFLT; windows covered the south wall, and fine modern art hung on the other three. It was tastefully decorated with cherry wood furniture and long, sleek couches.

In front of the desk sat Spock, who was in a gray suit and green sweater vest.

Winona sized up her agency’s comptroller. She had been incredibly pleased once Jim and Leonard broke up, seemingly for good, but now it appeared that Leonard hadn’t quite moved on in spite of his relationship with Spock.

That wouldn’t do at all.

“I suppose you’re wondering why I called you in here, Spock,” she said as she took a long sip of her drink. “We’ve got a big problem.”

“The problem is not severe; there will be an adjustment period for the employees to learn the HSA, but in time they will see that it is more practical then the previous FLEX accounts…” Spock explained as he pushed up his glasses.

Winona sat down her glass. “This isn’t about the health plan, Spock, unless it covers wandering eye syndrome.”

Spock blinked. “It would cover it if that is indeed a real affliction.”

“Oh, it’s real all right,” Winona elaborated. “You should know; your boyfriend has it.”

Tilting his head to one side, Spock looked patently confused. “I don’t follow.”

“Last night at the party, when Leonard practically came in his pants over Jim’s shenanigans,” Winona prompted. There was a plate sitting in front of her on the desk, with what appeared to be cucumber slices on it. She put one in her hand, holding it like a coin.

Now Spock looked downright uncomfortable. “I believe in the stress of the situation, Leonard was…”

“We both know Leonard doesn’t do stress like that,” Winona said as gently as she could muster.

Spock sank down in his chair. “He was rather…stirred by Jim’s actions, was he not?”

“Stirred is a masterpiece of understatement, more like finely blended in a Hamilton Beach appliance.”

Now Spock looked downright worried. “I do not wish to lose Leonard’s affections. What course of action can I take to prevent that from happening?”

“We’ll just have to make you someone who also stirs Leonard up,” Winona said with a shrug.

“How? I do not wish to pretend to be something I am not.”

Winona gathered her thoughts. “Leonard obviously finds danger attractive.”

“Jim Kirk is surrounded by danger,” Spock conceded.

“So what we’ll do is promote you. You’ll become our newest field agent.”

Spock looked worried again, but for a different reason this time. “I have no training.”

Winona shrugged. “So I’ll have Jim train you.”

“Kirk will train me to be a secret agent?”

Nodding once, Winona took another sip of her drink. “He’s already been briefed. Not on the why we’re doing this, of course, but on the what.”

Spock raised an eyebrow. “I see. When will this training begin?”

Finally, Winona smiled. “Right now.”

As he stood, Spock smoothed out a wrinkle in his vest. “And Kirk finds this arrangement acceptable?”

“Oh good Lord, no,” Winona said as she placed her slice of cucumber over an eye. She quickly did the same with another slice and leaned back in her chair. “Which, honestly, is just the icing on the cake.”

Spock sighed. “We do need to go over the new HSA plan with the rest of the employees. They need to…”

“I’ll handle it, Spock,” Winona said. “Just go meet up with Jim and get started.”

Taking that for the dismissal it was, Spock left Winona alone.

\-----

“No, of course I’m not okay with it,” Jim said to Doctor Montgomery Scott in the STRFLT lab. The room was all white with bright fluorescent lights hanging from the ceiling. Test dummies stood along one wall, and several state of the art computers sat on a table.

Jim stood next to a long wooden table in one of his custom tailored suits. Scotty, as everyone at the agency called him, was furiously texting from a chair as Jim spoke. “I know what Mother is up to, she’s got this whole thing planned _vis-à-vis_ me, Bones, and Spock. It’s a whole big conspiracy of hers to keep Bones and I apart.”

Scotty didn’t say anything; he just continued to type on his Android phone’s virtual keyboard.

“’Broaden Spock’s horizons’, that’s bullshit. Her idea of horizon broadening is a lot of fights from walking home alone fourteen blocks from your jazz-tap lessons and moving and not giving you the new address when you come home on Christmas Eve from boarding school.”

Once again, Scotty was silent as he typed.

“I’m so glad we’re having this talk,” Jim said with a smirk. “So anyways, I agreed to it, but only because I can use this to show Bones how awesome I am. Then he’ll come crawling back to me where he belongs.”

Scotty made a noise that sounded suspiciously like a snort, but he didn’t stop typing.

Jim put one hand in a pocket. “So, do you have them?”

Pausing in his typing, Scotty slid a gun and a fancy looking fountain pen down the table to Jim. The secret agent grinned.

“Thanks, Scotty. You’re like the Gayle to my Oprah.”

Scotty shrugged and went back to texting.

\----

It was close to quitting time, and Jim Kirk walked through STRFLT’s offices with Spock striding next to him. He also tried not to pay attention to how gross the carpet was. They really needed to get it steam cleaned or else they may as well rename the agency from STRFLT to ANTFARM.

“So I’m obviously not thrilled about this arrangement,” Jim began.

“Your mother is quite satisfied with it, however,” Spock said.

“Right,” Jim agreed. “Although, I can’t help but wonder…what does _Bones_ think of this?”

Spock looked hesitant. “I do believe this information is on a need-to-know basis, and as much as I would like to inform Leonard of our plans, I feel fairly certain that he does not, erm, need to know.”

“Huh,” Jim looked at Spock sideways. “Look who removed his balls from the vice grip of Bones’ freakishly large hands.”

His cheeks flushing, Spock cleared his throat. “I am certain it is not the first time you have kept Leonard in the dark about something vitally important.”

“Yeah, it’s called herpes,” Jim said with a shrug.

Spock blinked furiously. “You gave Leonard herpes?” he exclaimed.

A loud gasp filled the hallway.

Before them stood Pavel Chekov, Winona Kirk’s personal assistant. He was holding a file folder in his arms, clearly having just come back from the record room. Like Spock and Jim, he too wore a suit.

Spock cleared his throat a second time. “Hello, Pavel.”

“It’s Paul,” Pavel…er, Paul said as he shuffled from one foot to the other.

Jim looked honestly confused. “What? Since when?”

“Since you called me Paul so much I had it _legally changed_ ,” “Paul” hissed.

Jim and Spock blinked at him. “Well, that’s very…” Jim said. “Excuse us.”

They brushed past “Paul,” who made a loud annoyed sound at the two of them.

“Jim,” Spock began. “Herpes?”

“Oh, sorry, bad joke…well, bad joke and false alarm,” Jim explained. “But anyway, lesson one: get used to that.”

Spock began to pat his pockets down for a notepad. He didn’t find one on his person, but he did find his treasured fountain pen. “I feel that I should be taking notes.”

“Jesus Christ, _no_ ,” Jim said as they reached his office. “ _That_ is lesson one: never leave a paper trail.”

Now Spock looked confused. “How can both of those points be lesson one?”

Jim grabbed the pen out of Spock’s hand. “Get rid of this,” he said as he threw it down the hallway. The pen hit Pavel in the back of the head.

“Ow!” he shouted.

“That belonged to my deceased mother,” Spock added wistfully.

“Jesus,” Pavel continued.

“Spock did it,” Jim cried out to him.

“I most certainly did not,” Spock said with a disapproving glare at Jim.

Jim pulled out the fountain pen he received from Scotty. “Secret agents use these, Spock. Here.”

Spock pulled the cap off the pen and examined it closely. “The point is more fine than I prefer.”

“Well, yeah, that’s because it’s not just a pen, it’s a hypodermic needle,” Jim said with a smile. “It’s full of a neuro-super toxin called poiso…cane.” He grabbed the pen from Spock and placed it into his breast pocket. “Here, keep it safe, and for shit’s sake keep the cap on it so you don’t kill yourself. It slips off for like…no reason.”

Spock stared down at the pen in his pocket with a baleful expression.

Meanwhile, “Paul” had arrived at his desk in front of Winona’s office. He was taping a paper sign over his nameplate that said _Paul_ in large block letters with hearts and stars drawn around it.

STRFLT’s Human Resources director, Hikaru Sulu, came up to the desk carrying a large stack of papers.

Pavel/Paul began to make the noise of a truck backing up.

Hikaru, who was not fat, sighed. “Is that really the best you can come up with, Prince Myshkin?”

Pavel/Paul shrugged. “I’ve had a rough day. What’s all that for?”

“The new HSA program,” Hikaru explained.

The assistant got a bright look on his face. “God, I am so over that lame FLEX account. When does the HSA start?”

“As soon as Spock e-files all this paperwork,” Hikaru explained as he placed the stack on Pavel/Paul’s desk. “These are everyone’s DD-14s.”

“Oh, Miz Kirk is handling those,” Pavel/Paul explained.

Hikaru looked perplexed. “She is? That’s news to me.”

Leonard McCoy walked by the desk in a black zip up Kevlar jumpsuit carrying an AK-47.

“Well, Spock’s off somewhere with Mister Kirk,” Pavel/Paul explained.

Leonard stopped dead in his tracks. “I’m sorry, Spock is off _where_? With _who_?”

“Or _whom_ ,” Pavel/Paul corrected snidely. “I think the _somewhere_ was the _where_ and the _Mister Kirk_ was the _whom_.”

“Worlds, they are colliding,” Hikaru added with a grin.

Leonard looked less than impressed. “I don’t…

“Kind of inevitable, really, for a serial workplace dater,” Pavel/Paul continued.

“Oh, yeah, I see,” Leonard said as he gripped the gun more firmly. “Call the kettle _black_!” With that, he stormed off towards Kirk’s office.

Pavel blinked. “Did he just race card me?”

Hikaru stared at the assistant for literally thirty seconds in disbelief before turning his attention to Leonard’s ass.

“What?” Pavel turned his head to follow Hikaru’s line of sight. “Oh God, you’re so just totally _gay_ for him.”

“I am the _human resources director_ ,” Hikaru proclaimed. “So go ahead and think that, Little Mister Hostile Work Environment.”

“Ugh, but he’s like…riddled with herpes,” Pavel stage whispered.

“Hey, what did I just say to you about hostile work environments?” Hikaru looked somewhat sad. “And also, that’s a total deal breaker.”

Jim and Spock stepped past his office, doing another circle around the STRFLT floor. The windows overlooked New York City’s Park Avenue; it was a nice day, unseasonably warm for February.

The carpet was still shitty, however.

“Okay, so lesson one,” Jim began; Spock began to interrupt that it was the third lesson one when something occurred to him.

“Oh, I seem to have forgotten about filing the DD-14s,” he said.

“Screw those,” Jim shot back. “You’re a secret agent now. You don’t need to worry about that shit. It’s Mother’s headache.”

\-----

Hikaru and Pavel/Paul looked down at Winona Kirk, who now had a stack of DD-14s on her desk. She was sitting with a large bag of ice covering her face.

“You idiots tell me if it looks like I’m allergic,” she snapped as she ripped the bag down. Her eyelids were grotesquely swollen to the point where there were only small slivers that she could see out of.

“Jesus _Jones_ ,” Hikaru said. Pavel/Paul’s grey-blue eyes were huge.

“So tell me which one of you brain dead morons gave me zucchini slices when I asked for cucumber?”

“I didn’t do it,” Pavel/Paul explained.

“I think I know who did,” Hikaru said. “This has Riley’s fingerprints all over it.”

Winona glared as best as she could. “Scatterbrained Riley. Of course!”

“Yeah, he’s awful,” Pavel/Paul agreed.

“He is, because anyone can tell this is zucchini, not cucumber,” Hikaru added as he held up a slice of the offending vegetable.

“Oh, as if you’d recognize a vegetable that wasn’t deep fried,” Winona snapped. Pavel/Paul started snickering.

Hikaru glared at her. “What is _that_ supposed to mean?”

Winona blinked her incredibly puffy eyes at him. “You are Hikaru, aren’t you?”

\----

Spock matched his strides to Jim’s slightly longer ones. “So, human intelligence entails…what exactly?”

“Oh, all kinds of things,” Jim said. “Dropped flags, drop outs, cut outs, active doubles, passive doubles,” Jim listed. “Dangled moles, the often and incredibly under-appreciated honey pot…” They had reached the elevator, and Jim pressed the button to go down. The chime sounded, the door opened, and the two men stepped inside. Jim pushed the button for the garage level.

“That sounds like a generous amount of information to cover,” Spock said, and he hoped he didn’t sound as intimidated as he felt.

“It is, so that’s why we’re starting now even though we’re off the clock,” Jim agreed as the elevator doors began to close. He checked his watch. “And we’re going to have to gloss over…almost all of it.”

Just then, the muzzle of an AK-47 poked its way through the doors.

“Weapon!” Jim shouted as he grabbed the gun, just as the doors bounced back from striking it. He wrestled it out of the person’s hands.

It was Bones.

“Hi, Spock,” he said to his lover. “Fuckface,” he said to Jim.

“Hi yourself, Bones,” Jim answered brightly.

“So…you mind telling me what this is?” Leonard said with a point to the two of them.

Spock thought for long enough that the expression on Leonard’s face went from cautious curiosity to dangerously neutral.

“Mister Kirk is…having difficulty with his DD-14,” Spock explained. “Thanks to Scatterbrained Kevin Riley, it is downstairs when it should be on Winona Kirk’s desk for processing. Therefore, Mister Kirk and I are going down in order to retrieve it.”

Jim facepalmed. Of all the idiotic, poorly done, ridiculous…

Leonard’s eyes narrowed. “I see.” He turned his attention fully onto Spock. “And we’re still on for later? You’ll be cooking at my place?”

“Of course, Leonard,” Spock said.

Leonard finally relaxed a little. “AK-47?”

Wordlessly, Jim handed the gun back to him.

“Thank you.” Leonard stepped back from the elevator door, and it closed once again, leaving Spock and Jim alone inside it as it began its descent.

“That was…I cannot believe…I lied to him,” Spock said.

“Yeah, stupidly at that. Good going, Captain Obvious, now Riley’s a loose end,” Jim snapped. “Keep it vague, Spock,” he continued as they reached their floor. “ _That_ is lesson one.”

“Well, I…” Spock said, but he found he had no logical counter argument. “I do not understand how one could possibly keep track of the lies if one does not give them specifics.”

“Practice mostly,” Jim said as the doors opened out into the garage. “Lying is like…ninety-five percent of what I do.”

“I do not see how that is possible when just last evening you were boasting about your career to anyone who would listen,” Spock said as they walked through the garage to Jim’s sleek black BMW. A thought occurred to Spock then. “I suppose I am going to have to learn martial arts. Karate, for example.”

Jim burst out laughing. “Karate? The Dane Cook of martial arts? No, Spock. STRFLT uses Krav Maga, so that’s what you’re going to learn. We have an ex-Mossad agent who teaches us, he comes in on Thursdays.”

“I see,” Spock said with approval. He made a note to clear off his Thursday schedule going forward.

“On Tuesday he does a killer Spin class,” Jim continued.

Spock looked down at his clothing. “I appear to be dressed incorrectly for our activities.”

“Oh, that’s another thing,” Jim said as he pushed the button to unlock his car. “We need to get you a new wardrobe. Complete overhaul, man.”

Looking mildly affronted, Spock pushed up his glasses. “There is nothing wrong with my suit.”

For the second time, Jim burst out laughing. He laughed so hard he had to lean against his car door. When he finally calmed, he looked at Spock in the eyes.

“Sorry. I was laughing at your horrible clothing.”

\----

Kevin Riley stood in front of one of the STRFLT vending machines. Did he want Twix or M&Ms? Hell, why not both? He had enough change.

He began to insert the coins into the machine when an ominous shadow covered him.

“Hey there Kevin,” Leonard McCoy said as he pulled out and opened a switchblade. “You getting a snack?”

Riley gasped and began to back away.

\-----

About an hour and a half later, Spock stood on a box in Jim Kirk’s insanely huge closet as an older man measured his inseam. He was wearing a pair of dark blue trousers, a white dress shirt, and a navy tie.

“Your assessment was correct,” Spock said to Jim, who was just in his boxer briefs and socks. “A properly tailored suit is far more comfortable. I also feel that my posture is improved.”

“Well, yeah, Pike’s a genius at tailoring,” Jim said.

“Although like many geniuses, I find I’m unappreciated in my time,” Pike said under his breath.

“Shut up and hem,” Jim said with barely-concealed contempt. He walked up to Spock. “Spock, check this shit out.” He pulled the waistband of his underwear away from his body.

Spock visibly blanched. “I do not want to see your genitals.”

“Don’t make it weird,” Jim said. “See?” He then pulled out a small gun. “It’s a Chekhov. Russian Made, twenty-five caliber.”

“When would one use an…underwear gun?” Spock asked, genuinely curious.

“Hopefully never, but say for the sake of argument you’re in the Caribbean. You’re making yourself a martini as that hot guy you spent all night having sex with lies in the bed watching you. You also might be kind of baked. Now, is the man in the bed the high priced escort you asked for, or is he a KGB assassin?”

“…” Spock looked disturbed. “I…do not know.”

“There’s a knock on the door. It’s room service. Who ordered champagne?”

“I don’t…” Spock tried to answer.

“But there’s _three of them_ ,” Jim continued. “And again, you’re baked, you can’t remember shit. So did you order it, or are they out to kill you?”

Now Spock was straight up bewildered.

“Or…is the one guy new, the other guy training him, and the third guy is there to fix the AC because the room’s temp is stuck at like eighty-four degrees?”

“I see.” Spock didn’t see, not really.

“So anyway, this can save your life. The important thing is, if you come out waving this around no one’s gonna bug you for a tip.” He handed the gun to Spock. “My gift to you.”

Spock held the gun by the barrel with his thumb and forefinger. “It is rather slippery.”

“Yeah, and the safety’s off, so it could go off for like…no reason,” Jim said.

Spock held the gun with a slightly unnerved expression on his face. Pike sighed and continued to hem his pants.

\----

Winona Kirk lay on the leather sofa in her office with the ice bag still covering her eyes. She also kept taking two pills at a time out of a bottle and swallowing them dry.

“Remind me what these are again,” she said to Hikaru and Pavel/Paul, who were doing something on her computer.

“Antihistamines,” Hikaru said from here he stood behind Pavel/Paul, who was in the chair typing. “Mostly.”

“You just keep taking those pills, Miz Kirk,” Pavel/Paul said helpfully. “Hikaru and I will take care of these DD-14s for you.”

“Damn straight you will,” Winona said as she popped more pills. “Morons.”

Pavel/Paul pulled something up on the screen and gasped. “Hikaru, look at this.”

Hikaru looked at the screen. “Holy shitsnacks.”

“We have snacks?” Winona asked as she took two more pills.

“Everyone’s personal medical records,” Pavel/Paul said. “ _Everyone’s_.”

“We can’t look at this,” Hikaru said. “It’s a HIPAA violation.”

“No, check this out, look at Spock’s.”

Hikaru bent down and read.

“What about those snacks?” Winona asked a second time.

“Spock tried to get his plan to cover a penis _reduction_ surgery? Really?”

“I know, right?” Pavel/Paul continued to scroll through; the only stuff in Spock’s record besides that entry was routine things like flu shots and dental work. “Who’d have thunk it?”

“I bet Agent McCoy thunks it plenty,” Hikaru said with a thrust of his hips.

“You bet he does what?” Agent McCoy said as he walked into the doorway.

“Oh, I bet he uh…” Hikaru stammered. “…I…he…yeah, I got nothing.”

“That’s about what I thought,” Leonard said with a raise of an eyebrow. “You two gossipy hens seen Spock?”

“Is that Leonard?” Winona said as she removed the bag of ice.

Leonard’s eyes widened. “Holy shit, what the hell happened to you?”

“Scatterbrained Riley,” Winona said darkly. “Let me tell you something, Leonard…you should be thankful that you have a boyfriend as dependable and stalwart as Spock.”

“Uh…” Leonard ran a hand through his hair.

“For about thirteen reasons,” Pavel whispered. Hikaru swatted him on the arm.

“Well…thank you, Winona,” Leonard continued with a pointed look to Pavel and Hikaru. “But if you don’t mind, I’d like to keep my personal affairs out of the office.” Leonard left the room then, muttering under his breath.

“Oh please,” Winona said almost drunkenly; the meds were obviously kicking in. “He’s had more pens in the company ink than a fucking pen store.”

“And yet,” Pavel/Paul said as he pulled up Leonard’s medical records. “No herpes.”

“Yes!” Hikaru pumped his fist in the air. “Deal un-broken!”

“Eeeewwww,” Pavel/Paul complained.

Hikaru swatted him on the back of the head that time.

\-----

Spock was now mildly uncomfortable as he stood in Jim’s living room. His suit jacket was carefully draped over the arm of the sofa, though he still had the poisocane pen in his pocket. He held a woman in his arms, a ravishing blonde in a slinky maroon dress by the name of Carol.

“What’s wrong, baby?” Carol cooed at him. “You seem stiff.”

Spock thought carefully about how to phrase his answer. “I simply have never been in such proximity to a woman of your…profession.”

Jim, who was mixing Tom Collinses for everyone, rolled his eyes. “She’s a call girl, Spock. It’s not an insult, it’s what she does, and Carol takes pride in her work.”

“Do I ever,” Carol said as she moved dangerously close to Spock. “There. Doesn’t that feel better? It sure seems like it feels better, if you know what I mean.”

Spock blushed. “Well, yes. I believe that…it does.”

“Whatever, that’s just his gun,” Jim said as he sipped on his drink.

Indeed, Spock pulled the Chekhov out of his underwear and showed it to Carol. “My apologies. I assume this is out of the ordinary for you.”

“Oh please, the sick shit I’ve done in this penthouse?” Carol said with a wave of her hand. “Besides, that wasn’t all gun, was it, Spock baby?”

“No, ma’am,” Spock admitted with some pride.

Again, Jim rolled his eyes. “Are the both of you done screwing around so we can get to it already? Pike, are you in position?”

Pike appeared from behind the couch in a catcher’s mask and chest plate holding a pillow with a hastily drawn bulls eye on it. “Ready, sir, though I am not entirely willing, I have to say.”

Spock let go of Carol to face Jim. “I am not certain that _I_ am ready for this.”

“Could have fooled me,” Carol said with a leer.

Spock tugged on his collar. “Well…that is…”

“It’s harmless, Spock,” Jim continued. “Your highly trained field agent eyes have spotted two potential threats.”

“I am not highly trained,” Spock countered. “I am not trained at all, actually, hence my apprehension.”

“This is how you train, Spock,” Jim said. “So, you’ve spotted your first threat. Pike.”

Pike sighed and held the pillow as far away from his body as he could.

“Shoot the gun, bam bam bam bam bam bam bam bam,” Jim said as he mimed shooting a gun with his hand. “Although, at the pad, not Pike please.”

“You wish for me to actually discharge the firearm inside your home?” Now Spock looked horrified.

“How else are you going to learn? Then you see the second threat, but boom! You’re out of ammo. What do you do?”

Something on Spock’s face lit up. “That is where the turn comes into play.”

“Exactly,” Jim said. “Hold your position, Pike.”

“Yes, sir,” Pike said grudgingly. “You really should provide me with better health insurance, sir.”

“Shut up,” Jim snapped.

“Very well, sir,” Pike said as he went back to hiding behind the couch.

“All right, live fire exercise is go,” Jim said with a smile. “And, five, six, seven, eight.”

Spock and Carol began to dance around the living room.

“Tango, tango, tango,” Jim narrated. “Scan the ballroom of the Cuban embassy for the double agent you’re here to meet.”

Spock indeed scanned the room over Carol’s shoulders.

“You’re just a happy Canadian here on business,” Jim continued, “And…threat! Pike!”

“Yes, sir,” Pike said as he stood from behind the couch.

“Spock!”

Spock stopped dancing and pulled out the gun. His hand shook as he aimed it toward the pillow.

“Spock, come on! Shoot! Democracy is at stake!”

Sweat trickled down Spock’s face as he closed his eyes and pulled the trigger. Miraculously, all eight shots hit the pillow and not Pike, the rest of the apartment, or Jim.

Spock began to breathe furiously as Carol squealed.

“Oh Spock, baby, that was amazing,” she breathed. “I’m so impressed right now.”

“Second threat, Spock,” Jim called as he filled a slingshot with ice cubes.

Spock grabbed Carol just in time, as Jim fired the cubes. They all scored direct hits in Carol’s exposed back.

“Jesus Christ, that _hurt_ ” Carol snapped.

“Why would you do such a thing?” Spock asked Jim angrily.

“Yeah, Spock!” Jim exclaimed. “That was totally ninja!”

“No that was not _ninja_ ,” Spock said in a caustic tone. “That was most unnecessary.”

“It’s bullshit, is what it was,” Carol said as she rubbed her back. “I didn’t agree to come over here for this crap.”

“Well, we can try it with grapes, I guess,” Jim said. “Pike, go get the grapes.”

“You don’t allow me to buy grapes, sir, only ligonberries,” Pike said.

Jim looked thoughtful. “Are they balistically similar to grapes?”

“Screw your grapes,” Carol said as she grabbed her purse. “I’m not fucking around with you assholes any more tonight.”

“No, please,” Spock said as he gently grabbed Carol’s arms. “I did not mean any offense; I simply was not thinking. If you would only…”

Carol shoved him off, and her hand got caught on something in Spock’s breast pocket. “Ow, what the hell is that?”

Spock looked down at his chest; oh, the poisocane pen. He had forgotten he had put it there.

Carol turned pale. “Oh…oh I don’t feel so hot…” She began to raise a hand to her forehead, but as she did her knees gave out on her, and she dropped down to the floor.

At this moment, Spock’s cellphone began to ring. He pulled it out of his pants pocket and flipped it open; the display read _Incoming Call from Leonard McCoy: Accept?_. He hastily hit the decline button.

“Oh my God,” Jim shouted as he ran over. Spock continued to stare down at Carol’s limp form. “Oh my God,” Jim repeated, “You killed a hooker!”

“Call girl,” Spock corrected in a voice that was devoid of all emotion.

“No, Spock, when they’re dead they’re just _hookers_ ,” Jim explained. “God, I told you the cap of that thing slips off constantly, why would you let her touch it?”

“I must admit, I assumed if something bad were to happen, it would be the fault of…”

Jim shushed him. “No. Do not say it. Do not say the Chekhov gun, Spock, because that, sir, is a _facile argument_.”

“If I may interject, it’s also incredibly esoteric,” Pike added helpfully.

Jim glared at Pike. “Pike…”

Pike sighed. “Fetching a rug, sir.” With that, he slunk off to one of the other rooms of the penthouse.

Jim threw his hands up in the air. “You see that? Now he’s fetching a rug! You happy, Spock?”

“No, I most certainly am _not_ ,” Spock snapped.

“That makes two of us because _me neither_ ,” Jim shouted. A wistful look crossed his features. “I mean, big picture being what it is, I wouldn’t say that I’m a happy person. Especially not the last few months.”

“Sir, I have fetched the rug.” Pike stood, still in his catcher’s equipment, holding the large area rug from Kirk’s bedroom.

Jim sighed. “Plus, now I’m out of a rug.”

\-----

Leonard held his phone up as he hit the button for the fourth number in his favorites. The phone rang once and then immediately went to voice mail. He stood in front of the refrigerator in his Upper East Side condo and opened it, checking its contents for a suitable dinner.

_This is the voice mailbox of Spock S’chn T’gai. I am not available to answer your call at this time, but if you would leave your name and a number for me to reach you, I will return your call as soon as I am able. Have a nice day._

Leonard sighed. “Voicemail again.” A beep sounded. “Hey, it’s me. I’m at my condo. And did I mishear you, or did you say you’d cook? I know I must have misheard you about Riley, because he and I ran into each other.”

He thought about earlier, and he and Riley’s little “chat” by the snack machine.

“Yeah. That’s what we secret agents call a loose end, Spock.” Leonard idly rummaged through his produce drawer. There was plenty of bok choy to sauté for dinner. Provided, of course, Spock could get his act together and show up. “I’m sure you had an excellent reason to lie to me, so…I can’t wait to hear what it was.”

With that, Leonard hung up the phone and slammed the refrigerator closed with his hip.

“Un-fucking-believable,” he said to himself. He then turned, went into his foyer, and grabbed his keys.

Maybe a drive to clear his head would help, and if he happened to drive to Jim’s apartment to see if Spock was with him, well…who could fault him?

Leonard pulled up his favorites again and hit the sixth number this time. The phone rang twice before it was picked up.

 _Nyota Uhura_.

“Ny, it’s Len,” he said as he made his way out his front door. “I need help…”

\-----

Jim and Spock stood staring down into the trunk of Jim’s BMW.

“I have never experienced such a terrible evening as this,” Spock almost but not quite wailed. “Your idiotic mother’s idiotic idea, and her idiocy about orgasming inside one’s pants…”

Jim slapped him across the face.

“And now you have struck me,” Spock said, and his voice was curiously flat.

“I should do more than that, because I swear to God, you mentioning my mother coming in her pants…I swear to God, I’ll kill you next time, do you understand me?”

Spock was silent.

“Now, get in the passenger seat, because apparently part of your training now involves learning how to dispose of a body,” Jim ordered. Spock sighed and went to the passenger side of the car. He turned and gave Jim a look before opening the door and climbing into the seat.

Hidden from his sight, Jim smiled. His plan was working perfectly; there was no way Bones would stay with Spock if he knew he “killed” a hooker. Hell, just the fact that he was with a hooker at all would likely be a deal breaker. Bones had always hated it when he would find out Jim had seen one while they were together.

And maybe, just maybe, Jim was willing to change if it meant Bones would come back to him.

\-----

Pavel/Paul looked at the computer screen. The words on it read _STRFLT Agency Health Plan Override. Password?_.

“Shoot,” Pavel/Paul exclaimed. “We need her password.”

“Hang on a sec,” Hikaru said as he looked towards the woman lying on the couch. “How’re you holding up, Miz Kirk?”

Winona began to giggle; she was also wearing her sunglasses. “I am _good_ ,” she proclaimed.

“Okay,” Hikaru said. “Try ‘guest’.”

“That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard, of course it’s not,” Pavel/Paul entered the word _guest_ at the prompt, and the words _access granted_ flashed on the screen. “Wow. Just…wow.”

“Right? Okay, so now we’ll make all our copays zero dollars and the deductibles will be…”

“Super high, right?” Pavel/Paul said as he typed.

“No, you want the lowest deductible you can have because otherwise that’s money you have to pay out of your own pocket,” Hikaru explained. “So if there’s the option for no deductible, we want that.”

“I thought you deduct it from your taxes, though,” Pavel/Paul said. “Hence deductible.”

“Wow. Okay. No, that’s not how that works.” Hikaru said as he rubbed his temples. “Jesus, and we all pick on Riley for being stupid?”

“Speaking of, it’s probably better if we weren’t the last ones to log in,” Pavel/Paul said as he switched the user account from _Pavel Chekov_ to _Kevin Riley_.

Hikaru laughed. “Oh my God, you are such an asshole.”

“I am not!” Winona exclaimed from her position on the couch. “Just because I don’t want Jim to end up with a man like Leonard McCoy. Do you know that his middle name is Horatio? _And_ he’s a black ops field agent on top of that?” She swallowed another round of pills. “Plus, he’s gay.”

Pavel/Paul and Hikaru stared at Winona.

“Jim is bisexual,” Hikaru finally said.

“I mean, I was black ops,” Winona continued, ignoring Hikaru’s remark. “And let me tell you, for a child, that does not a Happy Christmas make. Why, for Jim’s fifth Christmas, I was with his Uncle Kermit during _Operation: Ajax_. Sure, Pike was with him, but I wasn’t there for my little boy. Of course he cried over it, that little drama queen.”

Again, her two employees simply stared at her.

“That explains so much,” Pavel/Paul said. “Like…everything.” Getting over it quickly, he looked back at the screen. “Man this is the most kick-ass health plan ever. It covers _everything_.” Hikaru was still staring open-mouthed at Winona.

“And I think I just had a flashback,” Winona said. “I don’t know what’s in these antihistamines, but keep ‘em coming!”

\-----

“This is nothing short of insanity,” Spock announced as they sped down Park Avenue in Jim’s 550i sedan.

“Oh, I’m crazy? I’m not the one who murdered a perfectly serviceable hooker in cold blood,” Jim said as he blew through a red light.

“I still do not understand why she is referred to as call girl while living but hooker while dead,” Spock said. “I also do not understand why we are on the run like this. Why do we not simply explain the situation to the authorities?”

“Yeah, and then who else do you want to tell? Bones?”

Spock paled rather dramatically. “He would never understand.”

“Duh,” Jim ground out as he took a corner without slowing down. “Your life, both of our lives, would be ruined. No, we’re on our own here, Spock, even though we should shove this in Mother’s face since this whole stupid fucking situation is her scheme so you could impress Bones! It’s so ironic.”

“I am not certain that that is, in fact, irony,” Spock said.

“Are you kidding? This is like if O. Henry and Alanis Morissette had a baby and named it _this exact situation_.”

“Well, I suppose if you are using a loose definition of irony,” Spock conceded.

“This whole situation is fucked up, and what’s even _more_ fucked up is the fact that a man like you _doesn’t deserve a man like Bones_!”

This was when Jim realized that maybe he had said too much.

Spock’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “I see. You set this entire plan into motion in order to drive a wedge in my relationship.”

“No, I _went along with it_ to drive a wedge in your relationship,” Jim admitted. “Mother set the plan into motion to get you guys closer together. I’m undermining her, but it’s still her idea.”

“You are without a doubt the most selfish human being I have ever encountered,” Spock said.

“Hey,” Jim said. “Hostile work environment!”

“Oh yes, a hostile work environment,” Spock ground out between clenched teeth. “We shall see how hostile the work environment becomes when I implicate you and your insane mother in a lawsuit…”

A car ramming into Jim’s back bumper cut him off.

“Who the fuck is that?” Jim asked as he focused on the rear view mirror. The car looked moderately familiar, but it was dark and he couldn’t see the plates with it tail-gating him.

“Your confederates, I would assume,” Spock continued.

“Those aren’t my confederates,” Jim said as he took another turn at breakneck speed. No dice, the car was still following him.

“As if I would believe another word coming out of your mouth,” Spock said. “You are dishonest on the best of days; you even admitted earlier that telling lies is ninety-five percent of what you do.”

“Spock, I’m not lying, I don’t know who that is or why they just rammed me,” Jim said as he took another turn in an attempt to lose them. Just as the last attempt, this one too failed.

“As the saying goes, I am not buying what you are selling,” Spock said as he lowered his window. He stuck his head out of it and turned to the blue car behind them. “I am not falling for anymore schemes!” he shouted.

Gunfire erupted from the blue car, shattering Jim’s rear window.

“Holy shit,” Jim said as he floored it. Spock, who had ducked down as low as he could get, peered up at Jim from behind his glasses. “You ready to buy now?”

\-----

Having poured themselves tumblers of Winona’s Suntory whiskey, Hikaru and Pavel/Paul toasted each other.

“To employee health plans!” Hikaru said.

“To free elective surgery!” Pavel/Paul replied.

“To the nose job you so desperately need,” Hikaru continued.

“And to the abdominal liposuction _you_ so desperately need,” Pavel/Paul countered.

The sound of gunfire caught their attention.

“What the hell was that?” Hikaru said as he walked over to the window.

“Immigrants!” Winona shouted from her couch. “That’s what they do, you know. They drive around blaring their music and shooting up all the jobs!”

Hikaru sighed and knocked back his whiskey in one gulp.

\-----

The driver of the blue sedan continued to fire at Jim and Spock as they drove past the STRFLT building.

“Who is that if they are not partnered with you?” Spock asked, still huddled into a ball on the passenger seat.

“How should I know? KGB, Shining Path, the VSA, this guy named Khan…I have a lot of enemies. That happens when you’re a secret agent!”

“I would think it is more that it is has happened due to your immensely unlikeable personality than your career.”

“What?” Jim took his attention off the road to stare at Spock with wide eyes.

“…Have you sincerely not noticed?”

“I’m plenty likeable, I’m just _damaged goods_ , Spock,” Jim said. “That’s all it is.”

The car got shot again, and this time one of the causalities was Jim’s side view mirror.

“You are not very good at your job,” Spock had to admit.

For the second time, Jim stared at Spock with wide eyes. “What are you talking about? I’m the best at this!”

“James Bond you are not,” Spock continued.

“I hate that fucking comparison, I really goddamned do,” Jim said as he took them down a side street. He also pulled out his Sig Sauer P229. Without taking his eyes off the road in front of him, Jim aimed the gun through his back window and fired three rounds, scoring hits on the blue car’s windshield. “Screw this,” Jim said and reached for the gearshift. He lifted a panel on the knob and the sunroof opened. “I’m ejecting.”

“No, you most certainly are _not_ ,” Spock said as he grabbed Jim’s hand.

“Yes, I am,” Jim snapped. Just then, the blue car pulled up next to them. It held position so that both cars were neck and neck down the road. The window rolled down, and Jim and Spock were face-to-face with Leonard McCoy.

“Bones!” Jim said at the same time that Spock exclaimed “Leonard!”

“Hi, maybe you can help me,” Leonard shouted. “I’m on the lookout for a couple of guys,” he said as he aimed his AK-47 at them. “They’re on their way to the morgue.”

Jim slammed on the brakes, pulling the car to a stop by the curb. Then he sat in silence with Spock.

“What am I supposed to tell him?” Spock asked.

“Well,” Jim began. “If you’ve learned anything from me, it won’t be the truth.”

Leonard, who had passed them when Jim stopped his car, had circled back around and parked his car across from Jim’s. He stood next to it with his arms crossed for a second before pointing at Spock, and then pointing to the ground directly in front of him.

Spock unbuckled his seatbelt and stepped out of the car. He checked traffic before crossing the street to talk to Leonard. Jim sighed and stepped out of his car to assess the damage; his insurance agent was never going to believe this one. Maybe if he agreed to pay for the damage to Bones’ car, Bones would pay for the damage to his.

Jim also did his best to not eavesdrop on Bones and Spock’s conversation, although that was admittedly hard because Bones was pissed and a pissed Bones was a loud Bones.

“I don’t give a _shit_ if there are _fifty_ dead hookers in Kirk’s trunk,” Bones shouted. “You _lied to me_!”

Jim sighed. “He didn’t learn a goddamn thing,” he whispered.

“You shot an automatic rifle at me,” Spock argued.

“ _Around_ you, I wouldn’t have actually hit you,” Bones said. Then his voice got quiet. “I can’t believe you lied to me, Spock. Why would you do that?”

Spock looked uncomfortable. “I did it because…and I admit, this is highly illogical…I wanted you to admire me. I wanted to be a secret agent like Jim.”

Bones’ expression softened, and Jim felt himself frown at that. “Oh, Spock. Don’t you get it? The whole reason why I’m so… _in like_ with you is because you’re nothing like Jim.”

Ouch.

“Plus, you know,” Bones continued. “The other things,” and yeah, Bones was grabbing Spock’s crotch, the same Spock who was now flushed and stuttering happily.

Jim smacked himself in the forehead.

“I see how it is,” he couldn’t help but shout. “He gets a free pass, but somehow _I’m_ the asshole in this.”

Bones let go of Spock’s crotch and turned to Jim with a steely glare. “Go ahead and get in the car, darlin’,” Bones said. “I’ll be with you in a minute.”

Wisely, Spock did as he was told. Bones strode up to Jim and shoved him.

“Hey,” Jim said as he shoved Bones back. “I’ve been through kind of an ordeal here.”

“What’s your angle, Jim?” Bones said with a frown. “Why did you agree to this?”

Jim didn’t say anything, but he did have the decency to look down at the ground, much to everyone’s surprise. Especially his own.

Some of the anger left Bones at that, and he sighed, causing Jim to look back up. There was something there in Bones’ eyes, something that Jim thought he’d never see again.

“I don’t want you back, Jim,” Bones finally said, but the look on his face undermined the words.

“I don’t want you back, too,” Jim answered as he leaned against his trunk.

Bones opened his mouth to say something before deciding against it. He turned and walked over to his car. He opened the driver’s door, giving one last long look at Jim.

Then he got in the car.

“What was that concerning?” Spock asked.

“Nothing, just reading him the riot act,” Leonard said.

“Leonard, a query,” Spock said as Bones turned the key in the ignition. “How did you know where to find us?”

“Oh, well,” Leonard adjusted his rearview mirror and pushed the gearshift from _park_ to _reverse_. “You see, when we first started dating, I might have injected you with a tracking device.”

Spock’s silence was eloquent.

“Now that is a breech of trust,” Spock finally said.

“Darlin’,” Leonard began.

“No, Leonard, that is definitely a…”

“Spock, do you really want to get all judgmental on me about trust after I just caught you with a dead hooker in the back of my ex-lover’s trunk?”

Again, Spock’s silence said all that needed to be said.

“I do not.”

“You do not,” Leonard agreed.

They pulled up alongside where Jim was standing.

Spock stuck his head out the window. “Oh Jim? I believe that this is true irony.”

With that, Leonard gunned the engine and they peeled off into the night. Jim watched them go with a sour look on his face and his middle finger up in the air.

“Oh yeah, well I don’t have some kind of one to _shitstain_ scale, Spock,” Jim yelled after them once he recovered enough to do so. “So fine, what the fuck ever. It’s a six.”

There came a loud banging from the inside of his trunk.

“Oh holy shit, _Carol_!” Jim grabbed his remote and popped the trunk.

“Yeah, it’s fucking Carol, you shitass,” Carol snapped, though it was muffled from the rug. Jim uncovered her and helped her out of the trunk. She promptly began beating him with her purse.

“You inject me with some kind of sedative after hitting me with ice cubes, and then you _cover me in a rug and throw me into the back of your goddamn trunk_ ,” she said, and each word was punctuated by a smack.

“Oh, like it’s the first needle you ever…” Jim’s voice trailed off at the look on her face. “Ahem.”

“Give me your wallet,” she said coldly.

“But I already paid you,” Jim protested.

“Give me the fucking wallet, file a customer service complaint if you want,” Carol said. “I’m sure Khan would want to hear all about it.”

Jim’s expression became one of solid fear. “Oh no, no, no, we don’t need to tell Khan. We really, really don’t need to tell Khan.”

“I think we do, actually,” Carol said. “Give me your watch.”

Jim gaped. “It’s a Bulgari.”

“Watch.”

“Fine,” Jim said as he handed her the watch and his wallet. “You happy now?”

“Almost.” She reached into his left hand and took his car keys.

“Oh come on,” Jim said.

“Good night, Jim,” Carol said as she stepped into the driver’s seat. She quickly adjusted the mirrors and the seat position, before gunning the engine and taking off into the darkness, leaving Jim alone.

“Well that’s just…holy shit, my rug! Carol!” Jim cried out as he began to take off after the car.

\-----

Winona stood by her desk, having long since removed her sunglasses. Her eyes were still horribly swollen.

“Well, I was a single mother. I did the best that I could. Maybe I wasn’t always successful, but I did try.”

There was silence.

“Are you assholes even here?”

They weren’t.


	2. Mudd's Weapons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bones gets sent on a routine assassination, but trouble brews, and it's up to Jim to save him. Meanwhile, back at STRFLT, the others have a big assignment to finish.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yeah. Hi. Been a while. 
> 
> This is the episode called Skorpio, but redone. Harry Mudd is Skorpio, and Boyce is Nickolai Jackof.
> 
> I'm updating the pairings to include Pavel/Spock and Jim/Bones/Harry Mudd. Yes, you read that right. Jim/Bones/Harry Mudd. I promise I don't go into detail.
> 
> Also I somehow swear more than the show does. And again, some dialogue has been taken directly from the episode. (Let's talk about Winona's line about the onesie. Because Good Lord.)
> 
> I plan on doing at least the first season of the show with some slight twists, so there will be more soon. Hopefully it won't take nine months again.

“So, you want me to go to the French Riviera on the STRFLT back account?” Jim said as he took a sip of Suntory. “And do…what, exactly?”

His mother, who sat across from him at her desk, pushed a button. The Murakami that hung behind her lifted up to display a view screen. “Locate stolen red eye missiles and kill the arms dealer Harcort Fenton “Harry” Mudd.”

The picture on the screen was of a balding overweight man with a large handlebar mustache on a yacht surrounded by soldiers in white. He also, much to Jim’s chagrin, wore only a Speedo.

“So what? Diabetes not working quickly enough for your liking?” he quipped as he took another long drink of whiskey.

Winona rolled her eyes. “Underestimating a target will get you killed.” She picked up her own glass of whiskey and took a drink. “His bounty is set at ten million. There’s a reason for that.”

Now she had Jim’s undivided attention. “Ten million would be more than enough to redo my shithole of a kitchen.”

Winona gave Jim a pointed look. “I did try to warn you when you had it done.”

“Yeah, yeah, the tile is too porous for a kitchen,” Jim said.

“Not to mention making it look like a heroin-infested Mexican bordello,” Winona added. “I’m sure your chef feels right at home.”

“God dammit, for the last time, Pita isn’t a _whore_ ,” Jim spat.

“She wasn’t until you set eyes on her,” Winona said with a shrug. 

“Okay, first of all…”

“Oh shut up,” Winona interrupted. “Anyways, the bounty is more than enough for your new kitchen.”

“Well, there’s also the breakfast nook,” Jim added.

“And the rest you can set aside for Pita’s inevitable…accidents…”

“Oh my God! Once! She gets pregnant one…three times, and it’s like you’ll never let me live it down! It’s not my fault the Pope won’t let me wear a condom with her!” Jim slapped his hand down on her desk.

“Why don’t you try wearing a vasectomy?” Winona said with a raised eyebrow.

Not this again. “We’ve been over this. Don’t you want a grandkid someday?”

Winona sighed. “Well if I did, I’d just scoop all of your previous mishaps into a big pile and knit a onesie for it.” 

The silence that followed was profound.

“ _Jesus fucking Christ, Mother_ ,” Jim said with a shocked look on his face.

“I’m sorry, dear, I’ve been fasting and it has me on edge,” Winona said with an apologetic smile. 

Jim’s expression didn’t change. “Still though, there’s edgy and there’s…whatever the hell you just were.”

“Whatever,” Winona said as she took another sip. 

Jim rolled his eyes. “Okay, okay, fine. After I redo my kitchen, I will contemplate a vasectomy.”

“So you do want the assignment,” Winona said with surprise in her voice.

“Of course I do!” Jim drained his whiskey. 

Winona had a rare, genuine smile on her face. “You really, really want it?”

“Oh for the love of…yes, I _really, really want it_.”

“Too bad,” Winona said, her smile turning into a full-fledged grin. “I’m giving it to another agent.”

“Womp womp,” said a voice from behind him. Jim turned, and standing in Winona’s doorway in his black Kevlar catsuit was Bones. He carried two pieces of his Balenciaga luggage and had a pair of sunglasses on his face. 

“What? Mother! Come on!” Jim complained. “Why does he get the assignment?”

“Because,” Winona said as she stood from her desk, grabbing a suitcase of her own. “Regardless of how you feel about it, Jim darling, Leonard and I have a plane to catch.”

“Leonard and I? Where are you going?” Jim said as he stood, re-buttoning his suit jacket.

“A conference in the Riviera,” Winona said breezily. She also put a pair of sunglasses on.

“How convenient,” Jim said with a glare.

“If you think that’s convenient, wait until you see _my_ new kitchen,” Bones said with a grin.

Winona burst out laughing, and Jim favored them both with dirty looks. “Seriously, Jim, when he gets back you should talk to his interior designer. His catalogues are flawless.”

“I don’t even know what to say to either of you right now,” Jim glowered.

“Love you too, pookie,” Bones deadpanned. “Come on, Winona, we need to get to Teterboro.”

“Right behind you, Leonard,” Winona said in a cheery tone. The two of them walked out of her office, Jim following at his mother’s heels. 

They only got a few feet when Bones suddenly ducked down his head and sighed. “Shit. Get the elevator…”

“Leonard,” Spock called. “What is this?” he asked as he pointed to the luggage.

Bones sighed, and Jim watched with veiled interest. “Just a little assignment. I’m needed in the French Riviera. Baby, I was going to tell you, but it’s urgent and…”

“You are leaving for the French Riviera?” Spock raised an eyebrow. “But…Leonard…you are dropping this on me with little notice.”

Bones lowered his sunglasses. “No, Spock. Dropping things is like suggesting people move in together after only four months of dating.”

Jim choked. What? That couldn’t happen!

“Discussing moving in together,” Spock said, cleaning his glasses. “I simply meant we should discuss it. My last partner and I moved in together after only a month.”

Bones rolled his eyes. “What are you? A lesbian?”

Spock stared at him. “I am a man, Leonard, so obviously I cannot be…”

“Never mind,” Bones said. “I can’t really do this right now, Spock, Winona and I have a plane to catch.” He turned and walked to the elevator, Jim and Spock following. Winona stood waiting and giving orders to Paul and Hikaru. Jim turned his attention away from the frustrated expression on Bones’ face to his mother. 

“---Want all of those files taken care of, or I will make it rain pink slips,” Winona barked. “They will be done by the time I return, or you will all regret it.”

Hikaru nodded and Paul rolled his eyes. “Yes, Miz Kirk.”

“You too, Jim, you need to pitch in,” Winona said. She stepped onto the elevator. “Come on, Leonard.”

“Leonard, I want you to call me or text me at the top of every hour,” Spock said. “And I will return said calls and/or texts at the bottom of…”

Bones had stepped on the elevator, and he paused to push the button. “Spock, I’m going to be busy. I can’t promise anything.”

“I shall send you an itinerary,” Spock said holding up his cellphone. “If you just…”

“Oh, no,” Bones said in a fake sad voice. “The door is closing.” The door shut, and the elevator made its descent. Spock frowned and adjusted his glasses.

Jim, however, smiled. It was obvious that Spock was smothering Bones. This was the key to getting Bones back, he could feel it. He just needed to play his cards right, and with some skillfully added comments here or there, he knew he could get Spock to push Bones away once and for all.

\-----

After taking the helicopter to Teterboro, Leonard and Winona boarded the private plane. The airhostess greeted them, and they both ordered bourbon for the flight. Leonard buckled himself into his seat and sighed.

“Thanks for this,” he said to his boss. “The money is nice and all, but I really just…yeah, you saw him. I don’t think I need to explain.” Something occurred to him then, and he favored her with a curious expression. “Your conference wouldn’t happen to be for control freaks who micromanage every aspect of other people’s lives, would it?”

“No,” Winona said as she adjusted her sunglasses. “You need to be careful with Harry Mudd. He won’t hesitate to kill you if your cover’s blown.”

“Yeah, no, I read the dossier, I…” At this, Leonard’s cellphone beeped signaling he had not one, but three text messages. He made an aggravated sound as he pulled it out of his pocket.

All three were ecards proclaiming how much Spock cared about and missed him.

This was in addition to the ten Spock had sent just since Leonard and Winona left the STRFLT office.

“If I don’t get suffocated to death first,” Leonard muttered.

Winona peered at his phone. “Wow. That’s pathetic. While Spock may be clingy…”

“He could school Saran Wrap,” Leonard said as he deleted the ecards. Two more took their place. “God dammit…”

“…I seem to recall that when you and Jim were together you complained about him being emotionally distant.”

Leonard shrugged. “Yeah, I was just being polite.”

“I wonder if that’s due to all those times I spanked him with a wooden spoon,” Winona mused.

Leonard blinked. “Wow. Okay. I don’t know?” He thought for a second. “Although that might explain the stuff with the ping pong paddle.” The airhostess brought them their drinks. “ _Merci_.”

Winona gave Leonard a funny look. “I thought you speak French fluently.”

“I do,” Leonard said. 

Winona shook her head. “Then what is with your accent?”

Leonard stared at her. “My accent is _flawless_.”

“Whatever you say, Leonard,” Winona remarked. She swirled the ice in her glass. “My point is that, clingy or not, Spock is dependable and trustworthy. You’re very lucky, having a man like him.” 

Leonard pulled out a neck pillow and reclined his seat. “Okay.”

“And I’m sure once we arrive, you’ll just have so much fun assassinating Mudd,” Winona continued.

Leonard shrugged and closed his eyes. “Yeah, and I’m sure you’ll have fun at your…what was it again?”

“Conference,” Winona said. “And yes, I am sure I will.”

Leonard shrugged a second time and dozed for the rest of the trip to France.

\-----

In the file room of STRFLT, most of the regular players were assembled.

“God, this is taking _forever_ ,” Pavel/Paul complained. “I’m going to be old by the time we finish this.”

“Well, it wouldn’t be so bad if everyone would actually work,” Hikaru said, giving pointed looks to Scotty, Jim, and Spock.

Scotty stood proudly behind four walls of boxes arranged in a square. “I’m sorry, were you saying something? Because your authority is not recognized in _Fort Kickass_.”

Hikaru rolled his eyes. “Are you kidding?”

“I never joke about Fort Kickass,” Scotty answered.

Jim sat drinking a daiquiri. “Text him again,” he said to Spock, whose fingers worked furiously over the keypad of his Android phone. “Then text him again.”

“Are you really certain he wants this?” Spock sent another text. It was the fifteenth in five minutes.

“Yes,” Jim said with a sip of daiquiri. His tie had been loosened and his shirtsleeves were rolled up. “Really let him have all of your feelings, Spock.”

“I would if you would leave me alone,” Spock said, typing another text.

“Wow, why are you listening to him?” Hikaru asked. “We all know he wants to sabo---“

“Shut up, fatty,” Jim snapped. “Seriously, bare your soul, Spock. Bare all of it. Give him everything.”

“I already told you I am,” Spock said as he typed yet another text to Leonard. 

Hikaru looked at Pavel/Paul, who shook his head a few times. They had a conversation without words for a minute, before Hikaru strode over to Spock. “Phone,” he said.

Spock blinked up at him. “But…”

Hikaru gestured for him to give it. Spock handed it over.

“Hey wait, what are you doing?” Jim said.

“Blender,” Hikaru commanded, and Scotty pulled out the blender they used to make Jim’s daiquiri. Without a word, Hikaru dropped the phone into the blender. He put the lid on it, and then turned it on.

“Holy shit!” Jim said, sitting straight up.

“My phone,” Spock weakly protested.

They all watched as the phone was turned into tiny pieces and mixed with the daiquiri.

“It’s called tough love, Spock,” Hikaru said. “You’re smothering Leonard. This is the only way to get you to stop.”

“The secret ingredient is phone,” Scotty said with a grin. He poured the drink into a glass, and Pavel/Paul carried it over to Spock, who stared at it with a forlorn expression.

“Seriously, Spock,” Hikaru said. “Give Leonard space. They say absence makes the heart grow fonder.”

“They also say out of sight, out of mind,” Jim said with a smirk. Spock’s expression shifted to one that was crushed. 

“Oh my God,” Hikaru said. “Seriously? Jim, you’re such a douche.”

“I’m just saying,” Jim said. 

Spock held out a hand. “May I use your phone, Jim?”

Jim wondered for a second if he had created a monster. Oh well. “In a minute,” he said, taking another drink of daiquiri. “Don’t listen to Hikaru. If there’s anything we men love, it’s being smothered.”

“As if you’d know,” Pavel/Paul said.

“Or choked, in certain key cases,” Jim said with a pointed look at the assistant.

“I do not understand,” Spock said. “Why hasn’t he returned my messages or called?” His expression changed to one of horror. “What if he is in danger?”

Jim pressed two fingers to his temple and sighed. “Spock, come on. Worst case scenario, his cover’s been blown and Harry Mudd is raping him senseless before cutting him into pieces and throwing them overboard for the fish.”

Everyone stared at him.

“Holy shtisnacks,” Hikaru said.

“Why would you say that?” Pavel/Paul asked.

“Leonard,” Spock said as he curled up into the fetal position. He slowly rocked back and forth.

“What? I said worst case,” Jim argued.

\-----

Clad in a strapless sundress and straw hat, Winona peered at the mega-yacht in the harbor through a pair of binoculars. “When you said you rented a boat, this is not what I had in mind,” she complained.

Phillip Boyce, the head of the KGB, poured her a drink. “I told you it was a very…er…pretty nice boat.”

“You failed to mention it was the freaking _Chum Guzzler_ ,” she said with an arch of her eyebrow.

Boyce burst out laughing. “Oh, oh wow. I just got that. That’s hilarious.”

Winona sighed. “Well, I know what you’re _not_ getting…” She refocused her binoculars on the upper deck of the yacht. Leonard stood in a pair of small, tight swim trunks and sunglasses. Harry Mudd handed him a flute of champagne, and they clinked glasses together. It had only been a few hours, but Leonard had already gotten a splendid tan. 

Winona narrowed her eyes as she paid attention to how Leonard behaved; his cover was that he was an expensive male escort that Mudd ordered to…entertain himself with. So far Leonard performed admirably. 

Then again, he was Winona’s best field agent. Not that Jim and Nyota were terrible, but Leonard worked without complaint. Jim and Nyota could be…difficult. 

“Darling, stop micromanaging your agent, and come enjoy the Tom Collins,” Boyce said, handing her a tall glass. Winona accepted it, but didn’t turn her attention away from the yacht. 

“I’m not micromanaging,” Winona said as she finally lowered the binoculars. “And if you recall, I was a hell of a field agent myself.”

“Yes,” Boyce agreed. “I remember. It’s what caused me to fall in love with you.”

Smiling, Winona drifted off to a time and place that was far away. “We were so young…”

“Remember that weekend in Berlin?” Boyce came up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist. 

“That night was magical,” Winona said, leaning back into him.

His grip tightened. “Then you disappeared on me for nine months.”

Winona stiffened. “Well. I…there’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you…” She took a sip of her drink, promptly spitting it out. “What the hell is in this drink?”

Boyce shrugged. “Butter spilled all over the cooler, so it got in the ice.”

“Ugh,” Winona said, setting her class on a ledge. There was a loud, surprisingly shrill scream. 

It was Leonard.

Winona snapped the binoculars back up to her eyes, just in time to see Mudd throw Leonard over his shoulder and carry him below decks. “Oh my God,” she whispered. “Oh my God! Leonard!”

She picked up her cellphone and scrolled through her favorite contacts until she hit Jim’s name. She then hit send.

\-----

Back in Manhattan, Jim’s phone rang in his pocket.

“Let me,” Spock said, reaching for his phone.

“What the shit?” Jim said, holding it away from Spock. 

“It could be Leonard.” Spock continued to try to grab it. “Please, Jim.”

Jim checked his caller ID. “It’s not Bones, it’s Mother.”

“She is in the Riviera with Leonard,” Spock said. “Jim, I must answer your phone.”

“Oh my God, no you are not,” Jim said, He pushed the button and answered it. “Yeah?”

_Jim, you need to get here on the next flight,_ his mother said. _It’s Leonard. His cover’s been blown!_

Holy shit. “Wait, really? And you’re sure it was Bones?”

“It was Leonard? What was Leonard?” Spock wrung his hands.

_I saw it with my own eyes. Mudd has carted him off to…well I’m sure you can use your imagination._ Winona said. _Jim, you must get here immediately and save him. You can have the bounty. Just please don’t let him get killed._

“Yeah, no, I’ll take the Concorde,” Jim said. “I’m on it.”

_By the way, have you given any further thought to what we discussed?_

What the fuck, why was she bringing that up _now_?

“Yeah, I’ll think more about it,” Jim said with a roll of his eyes. “I’m on my way. Talk to you soon.” He disconnected the call.

“What is going on?” Spock pleaded, and his eyes were wide.

“Oh, she’s just still harping on me about getting a vasectomy,” Jim said as he pocketed his phone. 

Before he could stop him, Spock grabbed him by the shirt and shook him. “Leonard,” he said.

“Oh,” Jim said. “Well, you remember that worst case I mentioned?”

Everyone gasped.

Spock somehow clung more tightly to Jim’s shirt. “Jim…if anything happens to him…”

“God, Spock, relax,” Jim said, trying to pry his hands off his shirt. “I’m going to get on the Concorde and go save him right now. Fucking shit.” He held out his daiquiri glass. “One for the road, Scotty?”

\-----

Approximately ten hours later in Saint Tropez, Jim sat in a wetsuit and scuba gear on a seadoo. “It would be kind of nice to know exactly what kind of danger I’m facing here,” Jim said into his Bluetooth.

_What danger? It’s an outpatient procedure._

Jim sighed. “Not the vasectomy, Mother. On the Yacht so I can save Bones.”

_Oh right._ Winona sighed. _How would I know, I’m at a conference, remember?_

Jim rolled his eyes. “That’s very helpful, thank you.”

An awkward shuffling was heard over the phone before his mother suddenly shouted _Oh my God, put a lid on it!_

“All right, all right,” Jim said. “I’ll go already, Jesus.” He disconnected the call and sighed. “Commence Operation…fuck I don’t know, I save Bones and he dumps Spock and comes back to me because I’m awesome. Or whatever. Fuck, I had something for this.” 

Jim pushed the throttle on the seadoo, and drove it under the water. He approached the yacht, keeping his eyes peeled for any underwater guards. There were several up ahead, and Jim pulled out a dart gun, stunning them both with it. Jim let the seadoo go and began to swim towards the yacht.

Unfortunately, more guards appeared and went after him. Two grabbed him, and Jim punched one in the crotch. His phone rang, and he looked at the caller ID on his wrist. 

It was Paul.

Jim answered the call. “Holy shit, what?” 

_Jim? It is Spock,_ came Spock’s voice. _I was calling to check on Leonard._

Oh for shit’s sake.

“Spock I can’t really do this right now,” Jim said as he reversed the hold so he choked the guard. He quickly passed out, and Jim turned to face three more about ten feet away.

_I need to know that he is all right,_ Spock continued. _Put him on the phone, please._

“Spock, I haven’t gotten there yet,” Jim said. One of the other guards had a harpoon gun; he fired, and the harpoon lodged itself in Jim’s bicep. “Mother-fucker!”

_Jim, I insist you put Leonard on the phone._

“Spock, I am not kidding. I cannot…fucking…talk… _right now!_ ” Jim elbowed one of Mudd’s goons in the face as he disconnected the call, breaking off the harpoon and jabbing it into his eye. Another goon cut the line to Jim’s scuba tank, and he pulled out a knife, stabbing him in the stomach. 

Jim then swam over to the goon with harpoon and beat the shit out of him. He held his breath, taking a look around the water. All of the guards had been knocked out or disposed of. Good.

Jim kicked his way to the surface, taking a huge, deep breath. He then pulled out his suction cups and climbed out of the water, sticking to the side of the yacht. “I swear to God, Bones better be in pieces, lying in a vat of acid, on fire, sobbing for help, and castrated or I swear, I swear to God I’ll…”

His head peered over the railing of the ship. In a chaise, sunglasses on, and wearing only appealing swim trunks leaving nothing to the imagination, reclined Bones.

“What the fuck?” Jim said.

Bones started and lowered his sunglasses. “Oh, for shit’s sake! Really?”

“I come here to rescue you, and you’re the one acting like I’m an asshole?” Jim stepped over the railing, pulling off his scuba gear. “What the actual fuck, Bones?”

“I…” Bones began. He shut his mouth, because a man in a white shirt with white hot pants and a mustache arrived. 

Jim acted quickly, putting him in a sleeper hold. “I swear to God, Bones, this is just classic you…” Jim pulled the man into the cargo bay, Bones following behind him.

“Classic me? What is that supposed to mean?” Bones said, standing with his arms crossed. Jim couldn’t help but notice how nice his tan looked, and how tight his swim trunks were.

Jim stripped the guy, tying him up and taking his clothes. “I was told you were being killed, and I was sent here to rescue you.” Jim put on his own fake mustache. “Want to tell me why Mother heard you screaming?”

Bones blinked.

\----

_Ten hours ago…_

Harry Mudd approached Leonard with a predatory grin. “I shaved my balls again, my little prince.”

Leonard laughed. “Oh, great. Well, I’ll look at them. Like I said, I like them perfectly smooth.”

“They are, baby,” Harry said. He quickly picked Leonard up and threw him over his shoulder. “Nothing will stop our lovemaking.”

Leonard screamed for a second before dissolving into hysterical laughter. “Oh sure. I…can’t wait.”

\-----

_Now_

“Uh, I just…yeah,” Leonard said, pointedly avoiding Jim’s gaze.

“You are unbelievable,” Jim said. “I came thousands of miles to prevent you getting killed, and I find you soaking up rays! What happened to professionalism?”

“I am being professional,” Leonard said. “Just…I wanted some Me Time. Is that asking so much?”

Jim glared at him. “Mother-fucking _yes_.”

“Well, screw me,” Bones said.

“Just two minutes, my prince,” Harry Mudd called from above. “I am just now again reshaving my balls again.”

Bones sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Oh my God. I cannot even.” He turned to Jim with his arms crossed as Jim stripped the guy he kidnapped and put on his clothes. “First of all, you have absolutely no _God damn right_ bugging into my operation…”

Jim zipped up the fly of the hot pants and adjusted his mustache. “Whatever. Take it up with Mother if it bothers you so much. She thought your cover was blown and called me in to rescue you. Get over it.”

Leonard sighed, placing his hands on his hips. “Not that it’s any of your fucking business, but I haven’t slept with Mudd either.”

“Yeah, sure,” Jim said as he buttoned up the white shirt. 

“Oh my God, I haven’t,” Bones said. “I just kept putting him off, making him shave his balls. I haven’t slept with him, not that I need to justify myself to you!”

“Why, so you can hang out on a fucking boat?” Jim glared at him.

“It’s not a boat, it’s a _mega-yacht_ ,” Leonard corrected. “Like I said, I just…I really needed some Me Time. Away from…certain people.”

“You mean Spock, who thinks you’re dead or tortured or whatever,” Jim said as he put on the steward’s hat. “Good job there. What was that all about?”

Leonard hesitated. “I…forget. What that was. Not important.” He sighed. “I’ll admit I’ve been hitting the sauce pretty hard. I think I’ve had an entire magnum of champagne just today.

“For fuck’s sake,” Jim said. “You’re so irresponsible!”

“Oh that’s a laugh riot coming from you,” Leonard said. “Why don’t we call Pita and ask her who’s irresponsible?”

“Oh har-dee-har-har,” Jim said. “What is your problem? You’re here to assassinate. Fucking assassinate.”

“I will,” Leonard said. “Just give me…a week.”

“Nope,” Jim said. “You had your shot, and you blew it. I’m taking over.” He posed. “How’s my disguise?”

Leonard stared at him for a second, trying not to pay attention to the way the shorts hugged Jim’s crotch just so. “I don’t know. Depends. You look like Topper Bottoms, stern yet sensual first mate on the _SS Rough Trade_.”

The goon Jim took the clothes from, who lay hog-tied and gagged on the floor in just his leopard print boxers, started laughing. 

Jim rolled his eyes. “They’re your clothes, shithead,” he said, as he shot him in between the eyes.

“No, what are you doing?” Bones said. “He’s the guy that runs the chocolate fountain!”

“There’s a chocolate fountain?” Jim asked with interest.

“Oh God, there’s _everything_ ,” Bones answered. “Fantastic champagne, food that will make your mother weep, a half dozen Filipino masseuses…”

“Skeet shooting?” Jim asked, holstering his gun.

“Probably.” Leonard gave him an imploring look. “Like I said, I just really need some Me Time away from Spock. Please, Jim.”

“Ah yes, Spock and his curiously oppressive brand of love,” Jim said. 

“Yeah so…haven’t I earned that?” Leonard said.

“Yes, _we_ we have,” Jim said. “I’m staying.”

“What? No, you God damn aren’t,” Leonard said.

“Uh, yes, I God damn am,” Jim said. “Or do you want Spock to hear all about all the sex you and Mudd had?”

Leonard stared at him for a long time. “You mother-fucking son of a sack of shit.” He then turned and stormed back up to the top deck, Jim following. Leonard flounced back into his chaise, adjusting his sunglasses. Jim took position next to the chocolate fountain with a smirk. 

Harry Mudd dipped a strawberry in the fountain, eating it like a wild animal would its prey. “Smiles, everyone, smiles,” he said. “Everything must be as perfect as my companion,” he said with a gesture towards Leonard.

Leonard laughed and held up a glass of champagne.

“In one hour,” Mudd continued, eating more chocolate. “The world’s most dangerous terrorists will gather here to bid on my…humble wares.”

Leonard peered over his sunglasses to Jim. Jim caught his eye and winked.

“Wait a second,” Mudd said, walking up close to Jim. “Chocolate fountain guy. You look…different.”

Leonard made a loud gasp.

“Uh…I’ve been working out?” Jim said with a smile.

“That must be it,” Harry Mudd answered. “Oy, do we have some duct tape?”

“Oh I don’t…” Jim said.

“Because this mother-fucker is _ripped_ ,” Mudd exclaimed, grabbing and fondling Jim’s ass.

“Oh, heh,” Jim said. “Yeah.”

Leonard sighed in relief before laughing again. “Oh right.”

The two guards in all white both started laughing with Mudd.

Mudd turned his attention up to Leonard. “Come, babe. Before the party I must relax…inside of you.”

Leonard choked, his body racked with a shudder. “That’s…that’s great.”

“No pushing me away this time, eh?” Mudd smiled. “My balls are very smooth.”

“Awesome,” Leonard said as he drained his champagne. “You know how fond I am of that.”

“Not as fond as I am of chocolate,” Harry said. “So you should bring this into my quarters.”

Jim turned slightly pale. “I would prefer not to.”

The two armed guards pointed their guns at him, and Mudd gave Jim a disapproving frown.

“Uh, that was a literary allusion,” Jim explained. “ _Bartleby the Scrivener_?” No one said anything. “It’s Mellville. Well. I mean, he’s not an easy read so I’m not really surprised…”

“Bring the chocolate,” Mudd reiterated. “To my stateroom,” he said to Leonard.

Leonard sighed.

\-----

Spock stared at Pavel/Paul’s cellphone.

“So…are you guys just bailing on this assignment or what?” Hikaru said as he continued to sort through the files.

Pavel/Paul had kicked off his shoes and socks, resting his bare feet in Spock’s lap. Spock found it oddly comforting, but he didn’t comment. “Who cares about that? Leonard is in danger! Maybe even…”

“Rescued, for shit’s sake,” Hikaru said as Scotty took a sip of phone-daiquiri. “God, Spock, you’re such a crybaby. I’m sure Jim’s gone all double-oh ninja on Harry Mudd’s ass by now.”

“Wataahhhh,” Scotty exclaimed. “Karate sounds.”

“Do you really believe that?” Spock said, his shoulders slumping forward.

Pavel/Paul sighed. “Spock. Right this second, Jim has found Leonard tied up. He’s undoing his ball gag…”

“What are you talking about?” Spock asked.

“And Leonard is moistening his pouty lips, looking up into his steely blue eyes…”

“Oh for the love of…” Hikaru said as he facepalmed.

“And Jim unties him, gently soothing the rope burn…and then…” Pavel/Paul said, smiling at Spock.

“And then?” Spock asked.

Pavel/Paul clenched his hands into fists, thrusting his hips back and forth. “ _Oh fuck yes, Jim, give it to me, yes oh god, yes yes yes_.”

Spock buried his face in his hands.

“Jesus Christ you’re fucked up,” Hikaru said as Pavel/Paul made loud wails and moans.

“I dunno, I’m enjoying it,” Scotty said as he rested his chin on his hand.

“ _Fuck me, Jim, fuck me, fuck me so hard I can’t sit down, fuck me, fuck me,_ ” Pavel/Paul continued. “ _Fuck me, I want to feel you in my throat, fucking fuck me_.”

Behind his hands, Spock started to hyperventilate.

“Shouldn’t you be, I don’t know, boiling a rabbit alive somewhere?” Hikaru asked, his voice dripping with disdain.

“Oh I have a few of those in the lab, if you like,” Scotty chimed in.

“I mean, I’m just saying,” Pavel/Paul continued. “But it might not be that. There’s only one way to know, though.” He held out his cellphone.

Spock regulated his breathing and looked at him. “I called him once from your phone.”

Shrugging, Pavel/Paul said, “There’s no harm in trying again. There’s only one real way to know for sure, Spock.”

Spock hesitated, but took the phone. He called Jim, but it went right to voicemail. With a sad expression, he hung up the phone. “Jim is not answering.”

Again, Pavel/Paul thrust his hips and pumped his fists. “ _Uhn, uhn, uhn, uhn, uhn, uhn, uhn, uhnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn_.”

Spock dropped the phone to the ground. “I cannot breathe.”

“Neither can he, because he’s all _Oh God Bones, just like that, twist your hips again, fuck it feels so good being inside you, fuck_.”

Once more, Spock buried his face in his hands and hyperventilated. Pavel/Paul moved so he wrapped his arms around Spock’s shoulders.

“Wow. Okay, that’s the reason why I don’t fuck my coworkers,” Hikaru said. “Well, that and none of them let me.”

“Ether works,” Scotty said with a bright grin. Hikaru stared at him. “Um, or so I’m told.”

Spock alternated his heaving breaths with a low-pitched whine. “I drove him right into his arms.”

“His big, tan, muscley, Rambo-like arms,” Pavel/Paul said. He shifted so he lay with his head in Spock’s lap. 

“Spock, come on,” Hikaru said, having finally forgotten about the files. “Why are you even listening to…wait, what is your name now anyway?”

“Who gives a shit,” Pavel/Paul said.

“Thank you for illustrating my point.” Hikaru rolled his eyes. “Seriously, Spock. Crazy looks at this kid and runs screaming in the opposite direction. You have absolutely no reason to doubt Leonard.”

Spock stopped crying. “You really think so?”

“It’s a _rescue mission_ ,” Hikaru said. “They’re probably running for their lives and dodging gunfire. They don’t have time for sex. Trust me.” Something occurred to him then, and he winced. “Although…”

“Although what?”

Hikaru sighed. “No, don’t worry about it. It’s nothing.”

Spock stared at him. “It does not sound like nothing.”

Hikaru pursed his lips. “Well okay. You know how we all have beneficiaries on our company life insurance policies?”

Spock nodded.

“Well…guess who are each other’s beneficiaries?”

Turning pale, Spock winced. “I do not…that surely is a mistake.”

Hikaru shrugged. “The forms have to be updated every quarter. They keep updating them to stay the same.”

Pavel/Paul sighed, and Scotty winced.

“No, but…” Spock was speechless. “But…”

“Son of a whore,” Scotty exclaimed. “My God damn FLEX account. I forgot to cash it out.”

Hikaru raised an eyebrow. “Date of hire or…?”

“ _Calendar year_ ,” Scotty said, his tone venomous. “I had six hundred and fifteen dollars in that.”

Forgetting his relationship woes, the accountant in Spock took over. “That is quite the same as leaving money on a table and forgetting its existence. How on Earth did you do such a thing?”

“I guess I was too busy fantasizing about Leonard and Jim having _fucking anal intercourse_ ,” Scotty spat.

Spock hyperventilated for the third time.

“Oh Spock, come on now,” Hikaru said, his voice soothing. “We all were.”

\-----

“Um,” Leonard said, looking down at the chocolate handprints on his body.

“Yeah, um…that…” Jim said, his fake mustache crooked. He was also covered in chocolate handprints.

Harry Mudd lay in between them in the bed with a cocky grin. He started to laugh.

“Wow,” Leonard continued.

“Yeah that was…that was dark,” Jim said.

Harry dropped the chocolate-covered wooden spoon and tucked his arms up behind his head. “Who wants champagne? I think this calls for it.”

Leonard winced. “How about something stronger?” Like black tar heroin, he thought but didn’t say.

“Yeah I could go for some arsenic,” Jim said, looking away from Mudd.

“I think I know just the thing,” Mudd said as he clapped his hands twice. His guards flooded the room, all of them carrying armed assault rifles. “Ready the shark tank for my guests, Agents McCoy and Kirk of STRFLT.”

“Wait, you knew the whole time?” Leonard said.

“Womp womp,” Mudd said with a wink.

“All right, you heard Mister Mudd,” the lead guard said.

“No, just Mudd,” Harry corrected. “Remember? That’s a thing that we’re doing now?”

“Wait…hang on a second,” Jim said, his hands fumbling under the covers.

“And where was this enthusiasm a few minutes ago?” Mudd asked with a raised eyebrow.

“I know right? Now he wants to be an active participant.” Leonard rolled his eyes.

“I had something for this,” Jim mumbled, ripping off the fake mustache. “Whatever.” He held up a grenade, his left hand holding the pin. “Eat grenade, you mother-fuckers.”

Mudd dove out of the bed, just in time for Jim to pull the pin. Leonard and Jim fled into the bathroom, grabbing guns from the guards. The bomb blew up, fragging a good chunk of them. 

“Where the fuck did you get a grenade?” Leonard said as he checked the clip in his AK-47.

“Hanging from the lampshade,” Jim explained, also checking his own AK-47.

Leonard opened fire, taking out the rest of the guards. “What the fuck does that mean?”

“Forget it,” Jim said as they bolted out the room, both of them clad only in their underwear. More guards came around the corner, and in tandem, Leonard and Jim opened fire on them. 

“This fucking figures,” Leonard bit out from clenched teeth. “I can’t believe I haven’t changed that form.”

“Do what now?” Jim dropped his empty clip, grabbing a loaded gun from a dead guard. 

Leonard sighed. “You’re my beneficiary. On my life insurance.” He switched so he and Jim were back-to-back, taking out another swath of guards headed from the north. 

Jim stopped in the middle of firing to look at him. “Bones…”

“What?” Leonard snapped. He took out three more guards. “If you die, I swear to God…I swear to God, Jim…”

“I’m not going to get fucking killed,” Jim said. “Though this could easily go cock up and…” His voice trailed off as his eyes fixated on Leonard’s crotch.

Leonard huffed out an exasperated sound. “Right now? Fucking really?”

“What? Shut up,” Jim said as he shot another two guards. “Like you walked into G Strings R Us asking them to give you something to show off that big, smart brain of yours.”

Leonard sputtered. “These are Hugo Boss!”

“It’s pronounced ‘knock off’,” Jim said with a smirk. “Whatever. I don’t know why I’m even bothering. You don’t matter to me.”

“Well _you_ don’t matter to _me_ ,” Leonard retorted. 

“Just don’t get killed Bones, I don’t want to have to update my policy,” Jim said.

Leonard paused, turning to stare at Jim. 

Jim sighed. “Yeah, fine, whatever. You’re my beneficiary, too.”

Leonard almost threw down his gun in disgust. “Jesus Christ Jim!”

“Oh don’t even,” Jim said. “You just admitted I’m yours. It’s the same fucking thing.”

“No, it’s not,” Leonard said. The cost was clear, so they went on the run towards one of the ship’s upper decks. They’d have a better vantage point from up high. “I feel violated.”

“Oh come off it,” Jim said. “Really? We just had a threesome with an arms dealer and a chocolate fountain, and _this_ makes you feel violated?”

They took cover behind the railing of the deck. Leonard took the point first, firing on the guards surrounding Mudd. Jim reloaded his gun. 

“I don’t give a shit about you,” Leonard said. “And I never think about you or miss you.”

“Oh for fuck’s sake, you’re so full of shit.”

“I am not,” Leonard said. “Reloading.”

“Firing,” Jim said as they switched positions. A grenade was tossed up to their level. Both of them went to reach for it. “Seriously Bones, you’re so full of shit your eyes are brown…” They made eye contact, and it was like everything stopped.

They stared at each other, completely frozen.

“No your…your eyes are green,” Jim said, his voice husky. “Like an emerald…how had I never seen that before…”

In spite of their surroundings, Leonard found himself shifting closer to Jim. “Jim, I…”

“They’re amazing,” Jim continued. “I mean, they’re not as great as your cock…”

Before he could finish, Leonard growled and fired off one shot into Jim’s left foot.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Jim said, falling over and grabbing his foot. “You fucking shot me!”

“You should be happy it’s just in your foot,” Leonard barked as he tossed the grenade down below. It exploded, taking out five of the guards. 

“What is your God damn problem?” Jim continued.

“ _You_ ,” Leonard said. “And I have a boyfriend, remember?”

“Oh right, Mister Cling,” Jim said as he clutched his foot; the shot went clean through it. “How could I forget?” He pulled himself up. “God, I cannot believe you shot me. You know how much that pisses me off.”

Leonard took stock of their situation; more of Mudd’s guards advanced on them, making them sitting ducks. They were trapped. “Yeah, well I suggest you stop bitching and get used to it.”

“Kill them, gentlemen,” Mudd said with a smile.

“Oh God,” Leonard sighed. “I am going to die, and you were the last man I was in bed with.”

“Well, one of them. I promise I won’t tell Spock…probably,” Jim pointed out. He ran his eyes over the deck, and they lit up when they spotted the missiles. “Wait a second. Bones…do you trust me?”

Leonard balked at him. “What? No! No, I don’t fucking trust you!”

“Too bad,” Jim said with a smirk. 

Leonard aimed his gun at Jim, but the clip just clicked. “Shit. I’m out of ammo.”

Jim smirked at him a second time before aiming at the missiles. “Hold on to your dick,” he said. He opened fire on the missiles, and they, along with the ship, went up in a fiery explosion.

\----

When Winona saw blood in the water, she became alarmed.

When she saw the first explosion, she almost threw up.

But when the ship exploded, she lost her shit. “Phillip,” she said. “Our son!”

There was a long silence.

“Excuse me?” Boyce said. “Our what?”

Winona dropped the binoculars. “Well…remember that little thing I had to tell you earlier?”

The look on Boyce’s face was of barely controlled fury. “A _little_ something? You’ve been lying to me for decades about our child!”

Winona sighed. “Well…I think he’s yours at least.”

Boyce went pale. “You think?”

“It’s either you, or that drummer, what was his name?” Winona furrowed her brows. “Buddy Rich?”

“Buddy Rich,” Boyce repeated.

“Yeah, or that other one, the one with the teeth,” Winona pressed a finger to her temple. “Gene Krupa! Oh, I never could resist a good drummer.” Realizing whom she was talking to, she smiled. “I’m mostly sure it’s you, though.”

Boyce continued to stare at her. “We have a son, who is now dead.”

“Well he…”

“No one could have survived that,” Boyce said, with a gesture at the flaming yacht in the middle of the harbor. 

Winona turned and faced the wreckage with her binoculars. Hanging onto some floating debris, Leonard punched Jim in the face. “Oh my God, they’re alive! Philip, Jim and Leonard are alive!”

“How wonderful,” Boyce answered. “Now what am I supposed to do about my security deposit?”

Winona took a good look at the _Chum Guzzler_ , which now had a giant propeller sticking out of its middle. She scoffed. “What was your deposit? A pair of used flip-flops?”

Boyce grumbled. “Oh that is just classic you.”

“Says the man who once used KGB agents to make a sex tape of me,” Winona countered.

“It also took an entire KGB art team to render out the wrinkles from your old ass,” Boyce said.

Winona gasped before folding her arms across her chest. “I want to leave. Now.”

“No one’s stopping you,” Boyce sneered.

\-----

Jim brought his head up out of the water, taking a deep breath. “Holy shit,” he cried. “That was awesome! That was the most epic shit in the history of the word epic!” He treaded water, looking around for Bones. “Bones?”

Hanging on to a large piece of wood about fifteen feet away, floated a bedraggled and sputtering Bones. “Fuckface?”

“Awesome,” Jim said as he swam over to him. “We’re awesome.”

“First of all, no it wasn’t fucking awesome,” Bones said as he reached out and punched Jim in the jaw. “You almost killed both of us! And second of all…”

“Second of all, I’m owed half the bounty.” Jim and Bones paddled the debris to the shore. 

“Fuck no, you’re not getting half my bounty,” Bones said. “You can suck it up and deal. I didn’t ask you to bug into my op in the first place. Go home to your cheesy-ass Mexican kitchen.”

“I cannot believe the ingratitude,” Jim said. “Wait until I tell Spock.”

“Oh, you’re not gonna tell Spock anything except how you started to cry during a three-man threesome,” Bones said.

“Hey! Wooden spoons are a huge emotional trigger for me!” Jim glared at him.

“Yeah, and now I know. And as soon as we get back to New York, I’m telling Hikaru. Which means that everyone else is gonna know, too.”

Jim’s jaw dropped. “So that’s how you’re going to play this, huh?”

“ _Yyyyyuupppp_!” Bones smirked.

“All right, fuck you too. Fine. I won’t tell Spock.” They continued to paddle to the shore. “Keep your piece of shit ten million dollars. And keep your piece of shit clingy boyfriend too.”

“I will!” Bones said. “And you know what? Spock may be clingy, but at least I can trust him!”

“Fine!” Jim shouted.

\-----

Sitting naked on Winona’s office floor, Spock held a throw pillow over his crotch. “Oh no. Oh no. Oh no, I cannot…I do not…no…”

Pavel/Paul, who was also naked, sat on the corner of Winona’s desk. He had hand-shaped bruises on his neck that he examined in a mirror. “Spock, seriously, you really need to relax. This isn’t a big deal.”

“Oh no, oh no,” Spock continued.

Pavel/Paul sighed. “You’re acting like we burned the building to the ground. I’m serious. It’s not worth freaking out over.”

“My life is ruined,” Spock whispered. “It is completely and utterly ruined.”

Pavel/Paul sighed. “Spock. What happens on this scratchy green office rug, stays on this scratchy green office rug.”

Spock finally looked up at Pavel/Paul. “Do you…do you mean you will keep our liaison a secret?”

“Sure, probably,” Pavel/Paul said.

“…Probably?” The expression on Spock’s face became somehow even more terrified.

Pavel/Paul winked at him. “Womp womp.”


End file.
